Establishing Ties
by Grignard
Summary: Sara resolves memories of the past with her present, newfound life, but some memories cannot be forgotten.
1. Chapter 1

Establishing Ties

"_I am looking for friends. What does that mean - tame?"_

_"It is an act too often neglected," said the fox. "It means to establish ties." _

_"To establish ties?" _

_"Just that," said the fox. "To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world..." _

― _Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince_

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When Sara needs a mother, she goes across the square to see stout, rosy Mrs. Carmichael. The first thing the woman does every time she sees the rediscovered girl is give her a kiss. She still believes Sara should be kissed very often because she had never been kissed in so long. The pretty, comfortable woman had been the first to explain to the bewildered girl the miraculous identity of the Indian Gentleman - the man who had been searching for her for two years and her magician who made her dream come true.

It was logical then to seek the woman out during Sara's inevitable transition in life from girl to woman. The mother of an already large brood treated the orphan like another daughter, providing straightforward explanations to the confused girl's many questions.

With her soft voice and gentle hugs, the woman was like the mother Sara had never known.

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_There are six chapters in total. Next chapter will be posted within a week._

_Please review,_

_Grignard_


	2. Chapter 2

_These chapters are too short to wait a week. As usual, the concept of A Little Princess does not belong to me, rather to Frances Hodgson Burnett. The story has not been beta'd._

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When Sara needs a father, she goes to see her guardian. He has many names, most given by Sara herself: Mr. Carrisford, the Indian Gentleman, Uncle Tom, but she still likes to think of him as her dear friend, the magician who had taken pity on a weary child. Oftentimes, the wealthy heiress of several diamond mines would find him wrapped in furs before a roaring fire. London was always too chilled for his delicate health.

Sometimes she wondered why he lived while her father died. Was one man more important than the other? Why was he saved while the one who was responsible for the care of a loving child taken away? She sighed. Death played no favorites. Who was she to question? Why was she saved when so many orphans went unnoticed?

It took some time to approach him without fear, this man who was not her father. His bouts with the brain fever that had killed her dear papa attacked on random days, leaving him weak and haggard, but he was healing. Sara easily found that her old-fashioned speeches and quaint musings distracted him from his morose thoughts. He would laugh at her jokes and listen to her worries. It gave him the greatest pleasure to indulge her every whim and meet her charming needs. Of course, after her ordeal her requests were more of a giving nature than wishing for a mere doll.

The man could not completely replace the father she had lost, but she could have never asked for a better one.

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_More to come._

_Please review._

_Grignard_


	3. Chapter 3

_To beauty0102 who seems to be the only one reading my A Little Princess stories. I'm uploading the story in pairs to fit the parallels._

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When Sara wants a reminder of the recent past, she takes the short walk to the boarding house next door to her own. It always took a moment to re-orient herself after being shown into the cold and formal sitting room. Sara never knew whether she was supposed to sit or dust the room.

Her life had been upended when she had taken the big ship from Bombay to London to be a pupil and a parlor boarder. She had never expected to become a penniless servant. Fortune had smiled and her riches were restored, but she had no desire to attend that school or any other again. It was never her idea in the first place, and look what had become of her life – her beloved father dead, her possessions taken, and a harrowing ordeal into indentured servitude.

She sighed breathing deeply. There were a few good things that happened because of it, one of them being a wonderful friendship with Ermengarde and Lottie. Sara had to only wait a few moments before the two girls rushed in; greeting her with warm hugs and kisses.

Ermengarde was excited to see her friend. The bespectacled girl was glad that the haunted and hungry look in her wide green eyes was gone, replaced with a happy and carefree one. Lottie had her dear mamma back. As usual, her needs were few and simple.

Together the trio chatted gaily, chattering over each other in their excitement.

Sara smiled fondly. It was just like old times.

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_Please review!_

_Grignard_


	4. Chapter 4

_Sara has such a way with the people around her. Burnett's description of Ram Dass meeting Sara was memorable._

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When Sara wants to remember the distant past, she merely waits. Uncle Tom's Lascar, Ram Dass, had the knack for turning up whenever you needed him most. She sat curled up in her favorite armchair and hears the patter of slippered feet behind her.

She feels nostalgic today, perhaps due to the poor weather. With the wet, cold days of London's winter, it is as if the sun has completely abandoned her. Sometimes she makes her way up into the attic like she used to before the Magic, standing atop a table to stick her head out of the skylight to catch a glimpse of the bright orb. Carmichael and the others look at her askance when they hear of this, but Sara looks to Ram Dass who smiles. Growing up all her life with the warm, tropical sun, it is a reminder of home.

Well, one of the reminders.

She speaks to the Lascar in her fledgling Hindustani, and though she does not pick up the language as quickly as she did her Mother's tongue, Sara still devours every sound and syllable. Each new word she attempted transported her back to the leafy forest where she imagined the Indian Gentleman's monkey used to call home. Every phrase flowed through her lips like the great river outside her childhood bedroom that met the roaring waterfall. Every new story formed a link tying her back to her homeland, where she hoped one day to return to.

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_I'm planning on writing a story in which Sara returns to India. The last paragraph was taken from Cuaron's 1995 movie version of _A Little Princess.

_Tell me your thoughts._


	5. Chapter 5

When Sara wants to feel like a princess, she calls for the Indian Gentleman's carriage. Wrapped in her fine furs, she travels swiftly to the familiar destination. The rig sped along the streets, pulled by her Uncle Tom's fine, tall horses. The small bakery, one amongst many in the crowded city, was warm, with a cheery atmosphere. There were many people today purchasing the freshly baked wares, but the baker and her assistant were efficient, clearing the orders within minutes while Sara stayed in the back.

"Oh miss!" The bun-woman exclaimed with a quick curtsey and a beaming smile upon realizing the esteemed guest patronizing her shop. "Welcome, miss. What can we do to help you?"

Sara examined the empty shop with a careful eye, taking in the comforting smell of baking bread. There was nothing as heavenly on earth as was the smell of warm bread cooling on a rack.

The girl smiled in a kindly manner, "Actually, I traveled here to ask you that question, if you please. Have you given away many buns and bread lately? It was a dreadfully cold rain last night."

"Why bless your heart miss always thinking of the hungry ones!"

It was all too often wealthy clientele would pass out alms as a quick opportunity for publicity before washing their hands and exiting the streets before the dust settled, never to return. Sara, on the other hand, not only came back, but sought to do more on top of her generosity. In all honesty, when the public heard of the bakery's generous benefactor, sales tripled hoping to get a glimpse of the "Little Princess."

The proprietress and benefactor reviewed how many wares had been given to the poor in recent weeks, and Sara settled the bill.

As the baker woman counted the sum, she noticed the child had paid too much.

"For makeweight," Sara replied with a knowing look.

The woman, never in her wildest dreams, would have believed that her life would alter so greatly just by placing two extra buns in a paper bag for a strange, intense face and clothed in bedraggled rags. Not only was her shop prosperous, but she could even feed the hungry faces which often peered into her shop window! She personally refused to let the rich heiress leave without a sack of buns herself.

As typical for the good-natured girl, Sara handed out the buns to the street urchins watching from the road. The boys bowed in imitation of gentlemen, and the girls bobbed a quick curtsey as they gratefully accepted the food.

"Surely this lady must be royalty with her rich clothes and fancy horses!" they thought. In their simplicity they believed this with all of their hearts. The girl surely proved it as she smiled and waved to the populace as she rode off in her grand carriage, just like a princess.

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_Gah, sorry it took so long to upload. Did I use alter correctly? It looks funny._

_Review, as always._

_Grignard_


	6. Chapter 6

There are days when she does not want to feel anything at all, but this particular sentiment sneaks upon her despite her wishes. It shows up, without fail, on her birthday even though she is surrounded by presents of all shapes and sizes. The feeling tugs at her heart whenever she passes in her splendid carriage a skinny figure dressed in rags digging through a rubbish bin.

Today she finds herself subconsciously pocketing her bread roll at dinner time to the amusement of Donald and Nora. The Carmichael family had come from across the square to dine with the-Little-Girl-Who-is-Not-a-Beggar. Janet, who's older and knows better, does not comment and shushes her younger siblings. Carmichael pats Sara's hand in his fatherly way, while Mr. Carrisford looks into the fire to hide the emotion in his eyes.

She eats slowly of the hearty stew, savoring each bite as if it would be her last. It might well be. She still remembers that last taste of birthday cake before her life was upended. Sara excuses herself early from dinner, despite the protests of the others around her. She walks past the splendid library with its tiger skin rug, filled to the brim with books of every nature to appease her voracious appetite for knowledge. Down the hallway and past the tea room, she takes each step up the grand staircase slowly, remembering the two exhausting flights up to the right hand attic after she had had a long day's worth of errands.

Sara enters her room, as richly decorated as the one she lived in when she attended the boarding school on the other side of the wall. It was stocked with pictures and books, little ornaments and decorations that reminded her of India. Emily, of course, was elevated to her rightful place, reigning over the room on her own chair.

With all that she has – the diamond mines, her adoptive family, her dear Uncle Tom, wise Ram Dass, and loyal Ermengarde and Lottie – Sara knows that she could lose it all, and had lost it all once. Uprooted from her childhood in India, the death of her Father and the seizure of all of her possessions, fate could turn its wheel again.

She glanced over at the shining grate that housed a cheerful fire. This was not recently lit by Magic, like that glorious night after the failed banquet, but instead had been lovingly stoked recently by strong, work roughened hands. Hands which currently awaited her mistress' commands in the silent room.

Hands that knew the loss of a father and mother, to know what it was like to work until you had no energy to spend yet were scolded and beaten into performing more weary tasks. To have your ears boxed by a tyrant and be reprimanded by a hard, worldly mistress. To understand, most of all, what it was like to be hungry and poor.

Sara walks directly to Becky, grasps the girl's worn hands in hers, and says nothing.

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_This came about because Burnett seemed to have Sara have this profound unspeakable connection between her and Anne at the end of the book. I always thought she would have a better relationship with Becky. Hope everyone enjoyed it. Please leave a review._

_Grignard_


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